"Certainly. And you mind me, or I'll have you rope-ended well."
Still holding fast to Darnley, he forced his way to the narrow passage, and here saw Nelson still lying motionless. He gave a low whistle.
"So this is your game," he said. "You must have hit him hard."
"I did," answered the bully, telling the falsehood without an effort.
"This may be serious. Help me carry him into the cabin."
Alarmed, Darnley did as requested, and our hero was placed on a lounge. There was a big lump on Nelson's forehead, and this the captain made Darnley bathe with some water from an ice-cooler in the corner.
It was nearly an hour before our hero came to his senses, for the kicks from the bully had been severe. He sat up, completely bewildered.
"Where am I?" was the first question he asked himself. Then he stared around him, to behold a negro sitting near, reading a newspaper.
"Hullo!" he said feebly. "What place is this?"
"Dis am de fo'castle of de Victory," was the negro's reply.